Bittersweet Memories
by angelofire
Summary: I was about eleven years old when I met a boy who would become my closest friend and help me through the torment my father placed upon me. “Hi, what’s your name?” The boy asked curiously.“Caroline Heartford…” “My name is Willy Wonka..."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is the redited version of the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory story I had posted before, which was titled Waiting for the Heavens. Hopefully this version is a lot better and if you ssee anything that might need improvement let me know.

Title: Bittersweet Memories

I must have been around four years old when the beatings first began. I remember it like it happened only yesterday. I had gone to bed right after dinner that day and father wasn't home yet. I lived alone with my father and he occasionally had to work late, from what I can remember. When father was working late our next door neighbor Mrs. Beezlbee, who was a very kind old woman with no children of her own, would bring over food for me to eat and would put me to bed. Mother had died soon after I was born, so I don't remember that much about her. I was always told by people in the neighborhood, who knew my mother that I looked so much like her. I would constantly compare my appearance to my mother's; since I was able to find a photograph of her hidden in the house. My mother and I both have dark brown hair. My hair was straight and short reaching only to my shoulder blades. My mother's hair was wavy and long; reaching the middle of her back. My eyes are a blue-gray color where my mother's where a hazel. I did inherit my mother's pale complexion though.

I was fast asleep when my bedroom door was flung open. I quickly sat up in bed fearing something horrible was going on. "Daddy, what's going on?" I asked curiously.

My father didn't bother to turn on the lights in the room as he stumbled toward my bed. As my father reached my bed I smelt an odd odor on him, which I found out years later to be alcohol. I suppose something should have registered in the back of my brain telling me that this was not normal; that I should run and get as far away from my father as possible. It didn't occur to me that my father would do anything to hurt me because he loved me. I guess we all can be a little naïve at times.

"Daddy…?" I questioned as he loomed over me without saying a word. "You're scaring me…"

"You look so much like her and yet you aren't her. She's dead and it's your entire fault." My father muttered.

"Are you talking about mommy?" I asked softly.

My father slapped me across the face and shouted, "You don't have permission to speak of her! Never mention her!"

I felt tears begin to form in my eyes and my cheek, which was where my father had managed to hit me, was stinging painfully. "I'm sorry…I didn't know…" I said softly. I thought I had actually angered my father by bringing up my mother because he had never hit me before, but I was so naïve.

"You can never be sorry enough. It's your fault she's dead. She should be alive instead of you!" He spat venomously as he slapped the same cheek once more, but with a bit more force.

"But I really am sorry daddy, I didn't want mommy to die." I replied as the tears flowed freely down my cheeks.

My father was unaffected by my apologies or my tears. "It's your entire fault!" He shouted as he hit me again.

I don't remember how many times I was hit that night. I remember my sobs and pleas were unheard as he beat me for something that I unintentionally caused. After that night my father seemed to beat me almost every day blaming me for my mother's death while screaming that it was my entire fault. After the days turned into years of this torment I began to believe that what my father said was true, that I caused the death of my mother and I deserved to be punished for it. The beatings only grew worse as I got older though.

It was seven years later when I was about eleven years old. I met a boy who would become my closest friend and help me through the torment my father placed upon me. It was during recess sometime in the middle of October. I was sitting on a bench watching some of the other kids play kickball. I never participated in the games children played in their free time for I was afraid that they would find out about my father or they would also beat on me for some unknown reason. I decided to become distant from other children my age in some vain attempt to protect the little bit of myself that I had left. One of the boys waiting to get up to kick the ball noticed I was sitting by myself and walked over toward me.

"Hi, what's your name?" The boy asked curiously. He had dark brown hair and wore large orthodontic headgear.

"Caroline Heartford…" I replied quietly.

"My name is Willy Wonka. I saw you watching us play kickball, would you like to play with us?" He asked politely.

I looked down at my feet in embarrassment. "Oh no that's okay, I just want to watch." I replied shyly.

"Are you sure, you could be on my team." He stated.

I nodded. "I'm sure…"

"It's your turn Willy!" One of the boys yelled over toward us.

I thought for sure that Willy would have run back over toward the kickball field and leave me alone on the bench. I was surprised when he said, "You can go for me Ted!" I saw the boy on the field shrug while another boy stepped up to the plate.

I looked at Willy and frowned. "Why did you give your turn to Ted?" I questioned.

He shrugged. "I didn't want to play anymore anyway. Where do you live?" Willy asked curiously.

"My dad and I live on the edge of town it's only a few blocks away from school." I replied.

"Really, my father and I only live a few blocks away from here too. Do you walk home?"

I nodded. "Yea I walk home every day because my father works."

The school bell rang signaling the end of recess. "We could walk home together. Meet me at the front of the school after class." Willy stated and ran off to class before I had time to reply.

After school I met Willy at the front of the school and we began our walk home. "What do you like to do for fun?" Willy questioned.

I frowned. No one had really asked me what I did for fun, but then again no one really bothered to walk home with me either. "Well, I like to read books if that counts."

Willy smiled. "I bet your room has books like all over the place."

I chuckled and shook my head. "No not exactly, my dad doesn't really buy me books."

He frowned and asked, "How come your dad won't buy books for you?"

I averted my gaze from Willy and watched the sidewalk we were walking on. "He doesn't approve of the books I read. He doesn't really approve of anything I do." I replied quietly.

"Oh, so you and your dad don't get along?" Willy questioned.

I bit my bottom lip in fear. I thought I had given out to much information about the relationship between my father and me. I began to wonder what would happen if Willy were to find out that my father abused me. Would he stop being my friend? Maybe he would tell the whole school? I couldn't let him find out to much about my father. "Yea something like that…" I simply replied.

Willy must have noticed my mood change when he brought up my father because he quickly changed the subject. "So what kinds of books do you like to read?"

I shrugged. "Anything really, but my favorites are fantasy books."

"Why do you like fantasy books so much?" Willy asked curiously.

I thought for a moment. "Cause it's an imaginary place where you can escape reality and just have fun." I replied.

Willy smiled and stopped walking. "Oh, this is my house. I'll see you tomorrow at school Caroline."

"Bye…" I said as Willy entered his house.

When my father got home from work he didn't even notice me. He ate the food Mrs. Beezlbee had brought over and locked himself in his bedroom for the remainder of the night. Rare occasions like this ever happen with my father and I was extremely grateful for these rare moments.

The next morning I got up and was just about to get dressed for school when my father began to bang on my bedroom door. My heart leapt up into my throat in fear. "Yes…?" I asked afraid my father wanted to beat me since he went to bed early the night before.

"Schools closed today." My father stated.

I frowned. "How come school is closed?" I questioned.

"Just look outside!" My father replied rudely and walked away from my bedroom door mumbling.

I quickly went over to my bedroom window and peered out of it. There was a white blanket of snow covering the ground. There seemed to be at least three feet of snow on the ground if not more. I thought it a bit odd for snow to fall in the middle of October, but I didn't ponder over this thought too long. I went into the kitchen to make myself breakfast and saw my father sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. I made myself a bowl of cereal without glancing at him; afraid he might yell at me for no reason in particular. I sat down at the kitchen table and stared into my cereal bowl as I ate.

"I want the walkway cleared by the time I get home." My father demanded not even looking at me.

I nodded. "Yes dad…"

As soon as my father left for work I quickly put on a sweater, snow pants, a pair of snow boots, a heavy winter jacket and a pair of gloves. I went outside and grabbed a snow shovel from the shed in the backyard of the house. I then began shoveling the snow on the walkway, which was more complicated than it sounds considering the snow was heavy and there was a lot of it. Every once in a while I would stop shoveling the snow and glance up and down the street. There were children having snowball fights, some children were building snowmen and the adults were either shoveling their walkways or brushing the snow off their cars.

I sighed and continued shoveling the snow. "Hey Caroline!" I looked up and saw Willy standing on the sidewalk.

"Hi Willy…" I replied with a smile.

"Do you want to have a snowball fight with me and a few friends of mine?" He asked.

I looked at him sadly and replied, "I can't I have to shovel the walkway before my dad gets home."

Willy looked at me sadly and said, "Oh ok…" He was about to walk back up the street but turned back to face me with a smile on his face. "Hey what if I help you shovel? You would get done faster and then you could play with us." He offered.

"You don't have to help me." I said. I didn't want Willy to help me because this was my responsibility I didn't want him to do something he didn't have to.

"Where do you keep the shovels?" Willy asked.

"In a shed in the backyard, but you don't have to-"I stated to say but I didn't get a chance to finish my statement because Willy had run off to get an extra shovel.

Willy was back with another shovel in seconds and began to help me shovel the walkway. Willy was right though, we did finish shoveling the walkway much quicker than I thought was possible. After we put the shovels back in the shed Willy asked, "So can you come and play now?"

I chuckled. "Sure…"

Willy's face lit up. "Come on we're all meeting at my house!" Willy exclaimed as he rushed off toward his house with me following close behind. When we reached Willy's house I noticed there were two boys waiting outside his house. One boy had blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I recognized him as Ted from yesterday's kick ball game. The other boy was a bit smaller than Ted and looked younger as well. The boy had red hair and green eyes.

"There you are! We thought you had gone inside." Ted stated sounding relieved that Willy had arrived.

"Sorry, I was helping Caroline shovel her walkway. I asked if she could join our game and she agreed. I hope you guys don't mind." Willy stated.

"Great, now we can make teams!" The other boy stated happily.

"I'm Ted and this is my younger brother Terance." Ted said introducing himself and his younger brother.

"Hi I'm Caroline…" I replied shyly.

"Okay so Ted will be on my team and Caroline can be on Willy's team. The only rule is no hitting the other person in the face and you can't leave this street or you're out." Terance explained.

"Okay you can have one place that you can call base. Base is where the other team can't hurt you. I pick the old pine tree in Mrs. Sherrie's yard." Ted added.

Willy looked at me and asked, "Where do you want our base to be Caroline?"

I thought for a minute while glancing up and down the street. "I pick your house, Willy."

Willy frowned. "Why my house?"

I smiled and said, "You'll see…"

"Okay ready, set, go!" Ted said as he picked up some snow and started making a snowball.

I quickly touched the wall of Willy's house and said, "Base!" Willy followed me and also called out base when he touched the house.

Ted looked at me dumbfounded for a moment. I took this time to quickly pick up some snow and form a snowball. Both Ted and Terance ran toward their own base as I threw the snowball at them, but unfortunately I missed.

"So that's why you chose to make my house the base." Willy stated watching Ted and Terance run behind Mrs. Sherrie's house.

I nodded. "Yea, I figured we wouldn't have time to run anywhere else by the time they started throwing snowballs at us. Your house was the closest." I explained.

"Oh I get it." He said as he picked up some snow and made a snowball. "Come on lets go find them."

It felt like our snowball fight went on forever, but really it only lasted for a few hours. The four of us called it quits when we couldn't feel our hands or feet anymore. Willy had invited me back to his house for some coco and I had happily accepted. I was sitting at his kitchen table with him sitting across from me while Willy's father made us both hot coco before his next appointment. I found out that his father was the town's dentist, which explained why Willy wore the awful orthopedic headgear. Once his father finished making our hot coco he went back to work.

"My favorite kind of hot coco is the one with the little white marshmallows in them. My neighbor, Mrs. Beezlbee, sometimes makes hot coco from melted chocolate. It's really good, have you ever had it?" I asked taking a sip of my coco.

Willy shook his head sadly. "I have never eaten chocolate."

I was rendered speechless for a moment. "But every kid has had chocolate at least once."

"My father won't let me have any chocolate. He says it might rot my teeth out." Willy replied sadly.

"Well Halloween is in a few days. He has to let you have at least one piece of candy." I stated.

Willy shrugged. "He's never let me have any candy before."

I bit my lip and decided to change the topic. "Well what are you going to be for Halloween?"

"I was going to be a ghost because no one will know that it's me!" Willy said excitedly.

I giggled. "I would know it's you because you just told me, silly."

He laughed also. "Well besides you. What are you going to be for Halloween?"

"It's a surprise; Mrs. Beezlbee is helping me with my costume." I replied proudly.

Willy frowned. "How will I know it's you if I don't know what your costume is?"

I smiled and shrugged. "You'll just know. Oh I have to get home before my dad does." I began to put my snow shoes, jacket and gloves back on. "Good-bye Willy, I'll see you tomorrow." I said as I left Willy's house and headed back to my own home.


	2. Chapter 2

Halloween arrived before I was even prepared for it. Willy told me he would meet me outside my house when he was finished getting his costume on, so we could go trick or treating together. I quickly went over to Mrs. Beezlbee's house to get my costume.

"Here you are dear, I hope it fits right." Mrs. Beezlbee said as she handed me the costume she made for me.

"Thanks Mrs. Beezlbee…" I said happily.

Mrs. Beezlbee smiled and said, "Here you can try it on inside." She said as she led me to the bathroom inside her house.

I quickly changed into my costume and looked into the mirror. I looked like a witch should look like, but something was missing. I stepped out of the bathroom and said, "Mrs. Beezlbee, I feel like there's something missing to the costume."

Mrs. Beezlbee looked me up and down thinking. "I think I know what's missing. Wait right here, dear." She then walked down the hallway and entered another room. When she came back she was holding a small handbag.

"You may dress like a witch, but you don't look like a witch yet." She stated as she began to pull out various brushes, powders and pencils from the bag while applying it to my face.

When Mrs. Beezlbee was finished I went back into the bathroom and gazed at my reflection. My skin was now almost white, my eyelids had black powder on them and my eyes had black circles under them. I came out of the bathroom with a smile on my face.

"Thank you Mrs. Beezlbee, now I really look like a witch."

Mrs. Beezlbee smiled happily. "You're very welcome Caroline and remember not to stay out to late."

"I won't…" I said as I left her house and quickly went over to my house to wait for Willy. Soon after I heard a knock on the front door and I quickly went to open the door. I saw Willy standing there dressed in his ghost costume. "So that's what you're being for Halloween. How come you wouldn't tell me?"

"Cause I wanted it to be a surprise." I replied.

"Well let's go before all the good candy is gone." He stated.

I quickly grabbed a pillowcase from the bathroom closet and went outside to join Willy. Willy and I wandered around town getting as much candy as we possibly could. It must have been late because Willy and I decided to go home and meet up tomorrow since the next day was Saturday.

As I entered my house I heard the angry, booming voice that belonged to my father. "Where have you been?"

"I went out trick or treating with a friend." I replied quietly.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" He said furiously. When I didn't answer my father snatched my bag of candy and flung it across the room in fury.

"No!" I cried and made a move to go pick up the candy.

My father slapped me forcefully when I moved. This caused me to fall onto the wooden floor where he beat me until his rage had subsided. I don't know how long I lie on the hard wood floor absorbing every hit, kick and punch my father could muster up. I remember crying for him to stop while saying over and over again that he was hurting me, but he wouldn't listen to me. I prayed that someone would knock on the front door or walk into the house and see what was going on. Maybe they would be able to succeed in stopping my father, but as usual no one answered my prayers. When my father got tired of beating the life out of me he locked himself in his bedroom for the rest of the night. I remained lying on the floor for some time to tired and weak to try and move. Finally after what seemed like hours I gathered up whatever energy I had left in my body and slowly made my way to the bathroom. I was afraid of what I would see if I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had this unrecognizable image of what my face might look like. I slowly brought my gaze to the mirror and carefully examined my face. My eyes were puffy and red from crying. My right cheekbone was tender to the touch and would probably become a bruise overnight. My lip had a small cut in it, but it wasn't bleeding at the moment. I began checking the other parts of my body that my father had attacked. Both my arms were red in some areas and I assumed those red areas would later become bruises. My abdomen was also sore from so many kicks to the stomach. I fell into a restless sleep that night because almost every part of my body was in pain.

The next morning I decided not to go to school. As I had assumed the night before many areas on my body had bruises including my right cheekbone. I did not to raise any type of suspicion amongst the teachers or other students especially Willy, so I decided to hide in the house until the bruises went away. Of course I did not expect the unexpected.

It was later in the day probably around three thirty when I heard the doorbell ring. I thought it was Mrs. Beezlbee coming to bring over that nights dinner for my father and me. When I opened the door I saw Willy standing there with a happy smile on his face.

"Hey Caroline I just had-" Willy stopped midsentence and his happy expression turned to one of concern as he noticed the bruise on my right cheekbone. "Where did you get that bruise?" He asked concerned.

I bit my bottom lip trying to think of some believable lie. "I tripped on the way home yesterday and hit the side of my face." I couldn't believe I was lying to him, but I was so afraid. I was so afraid of everything.

Willy eyed me suspiciously and I could tell he didn't believe my lie. "Then how come you only have a bruise on that side of your face, but you don't have any cuts or scraps?"

I was rendered speechless. I didn't know how to answer his question. Should I tell him what really happen? Of course not if I told Willy what really happen he would never speak to me again. I shrugged and faked a cheerful smile. "What did you come here to tell me?" I asked curiously as I stepped aside to let Willy into the house.

"Oh right, I came to tell you that I tasted a piece of chocolate!" He said excitedly.

I giggled at his excitement. "Your father let you have a piece of candy?"

"No he actually threw all the candy into the fire, but there was this one piece that didn't go in the fire. I found it this morning while I was cleaning out the fireplace before I went to school."

I smiled. "I told you, it's very addictive."

Willy nodded. "Yea and I was wondering if you weren't sick or anything if you would come down to the candy store with me."

"Sure…"

Willy's face lit up with excitement. "Great let's go!"

Willy grabbed my wrist to lead me to the candy store, but winced in pain making Willy's expression turn to concern once more. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head to dismiss the topic, but Willy wouldn't drop it. "You were in pain; did I hurt your wrist?" He questioned.

"No, no really I'm fine." I said but Willy had lifted the sleeve of my sweeter to reveal another large bruise on my wrist.

"So I guess you got that bruise by tripping too." Willy stated sarcastically. I averted my gaze to the floor. "Why don't you tell me what happen?"

I shook my head. "I can't…" I said softly.

"Why not?" Willy questioned.

I felt my eyes begin to sting as I said, "You would never speak to me again if I told you."

Willy frowned. "It can't be that bad."

I closed my eyes hoping this was all a dream, but in the back of my mind I knew this was not a dream. "My father did this to me…" I stated quietly.

There was a thick silence between us that seemed to last forever. When I opened my eyes to see if Willy was still there I saw sorrow etched on his face. "Why would he do this?" Willy asked slowly.

"He got angry because I didn't tell him I went trick or treating, but this isn't the first time he's beat me." I replied.

"Why haven't you told anyone?"

I frowned. "Do you think they would believe me? My father would come up with some excuse to cover it up and then continue to beat me worse than before."

"I won't let him hurt you."

I looked at Willy sadly and gave him a sad smile. "No really, I promise I will always be here if you need me."

"Thanks Willy…"

"So tomorrow you're defiantly coming to the candy store with me." Willy stated.

I nodded. "Of course…"

The next day we did just that. Willy was amazed by all the different types of candies there were. He was eager to try every single one of them. I noticed that every time Willy tried a candy he would write something down on a small notepad that he brought with him.

"What are you writing?" I asked curiously as I peered over his shoulder.

"Notes…" Willy replied simply.

I frowned. "Notes about what?" I asked as I read what he was writing over his shoulder. "Lemon flavored candy shaped like bottle caps."

Willy quickly closed the notepad and put it away in his pocket. "They are notes for ideas on candy."

"Why would you take notes on candy?" I asked curiously.

"I plan on becoming a chocolatier when I get older." Willy stated happily.

"Really, will you have a giant factory that makes tons of candy?" I asked curiously with a large smile.

Willy nodded. "Yea and you can help me make all the different candy!" He replied.

I giggled and said, "We better head home before it gets to dark."

Willy was reluctant to leave the candy store, but I told him we could come back tomorrow. When I got home I noticed my father's car was parked in the driveway, which meant he had come home from work early that day. I cautiously entered the house just waiting for my father to appear out of the shadows and begin to beat on me. As I entered the kitchen to see if Mrs. Beezlbee had brought over some food I was startled by my father's voice.

"Where were you?" He asked sternly.

"I was out with a friend of mine." I replied softly.

"Since when did you get friends?"

"I've always had friends…" I mumbled.

My father glared at me. "Where did you and your friend go?"

"We went to the candy store for a little while."

My father shook his head at me. "Great waste my money on garbage like candy. Haven't I taught you anything?" He asked.

I glared back at my father. "No you haven't taught me anything! You just yell at me for things I didn't do!" I shouted. I don't know where this new found courage came from. Perhaps it was buried deep down inside of me waiting to be exposed. This courage helped me stand up to my father for the first time in years.

"What did you say to me?" My father asked dangerously.

"I said you haven't taught me anything!" I replied unfazed by my father's tone of voice.

My father slapped me across my face and said, "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

"I hate you!" I shouted before I ran out of the house.

I wasn't sure where I was going I was just letting my feet take me to some place away from home. It was only when I had finally stopped running that I realized where I was. I was standing in front of Willy's house. I slowly walked up to the door and knocked three times. I was having second thoughts about running away from home and running to Willy's house. As I was about to turn around and walk back home the door to Willy's house opened.

"Caroline, what are you doing wandering around this late?" I turned around and saw Mr. Wonka standing in the doorway looking at me curiously.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but is Willy here?" I asked feeling awful for bothering them.

He nodded. "Yes, come in…" He stepped aside to allow me to enter the house and led me to the living room where I saw Willy writing some things down in his little notepad. "Willy, Caroline is here to see you." Mr. Wonka stated and left us alone.

Willy looked up from his notepad curiously. "Why are you here so late?"

"He hit me again…" I replied taking a seat next to Willy on the couch.

Willy immediately put his notepad aside. "Are you ok? He didn't hit you to hard did he?" He asked concerned while his eyes scanned over my face to see if there were any new bruises.

I shook my head. "No, but I yelled back at him…"

"Good he deserves it." Willy replied.

"I'm afraid to go back home. What if he's sitting in the living room waiting for me to come through the front door, so he can beat me?" I asked softly; fear was evident in my voice as I spoke.

"You can stay here with me. I'm sure my father won't mind." Willy replied.

I smiled. Willy seemed to have an answer for everything, he still does. "Willy I have to go home eventually. I can't stay with you forever."

"Why not? Why should you go back to a place where you aren't even wanted? Your father obviously doesn't care about you if he treats you like this." Willy argued and I stayed silent.

After a moment of silence between us; Willy sighed. "I'm sorry Caroline, I just don't think it's fair that you have to get punished for things you didn't do."

I nodded in agreement. "I know, but what can I do?"

"You can stay here for the night if you're afraid to go home." Willy offered.

I gave him a smile and said, "Thank you…"

Things continued on in this way for a while. I would escape to Willy's house whenever my father would go into a rage and try to beat me. I am still unsure whether Willy's father knew why I stayed the night at his house so much, but if he did know the reason Mr. Wonka was still very kind to me. One day my father's rage got a bit out of control. Willy had come over after school to help me with my homework and my father had unexpectedly come home early from work that day.

I heard the front door be flung open, so it slammed against the wall. I immediately jumped out of my seat saying, "Willy you have to leave! My dad's home early…you have to go, quick!"

As Willy was scrambling to get his things and leave my house my father had entered the kitchen. I immediately froze upon seeing my father and I knew that I was going to be beat when Willy left. My father glared at Willy and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help Caroline with her homework." Willy replied softly.

My father laughed obnoxiously. "You can't help her kid. She's a lost cause…go home."

I looked down at the linoleum floor hoping my father didn't see the tears that were forming in my eyes. "I'm sorry sir, but I don't think she's a lost cause." Willy replied.

I looked at Willy shocked. This wasn't good; if Willy got hurt trying to help me I would never be able to forgive myself. "Go home…" I whispered to Willy.

"I'm not leaving you here…" Willy replied.

"You think you're so smart, don't you kid?" My father replied dangerously.

I had to do something before my father took his rage out on Willy. "Daddy, he didn't mean it!" I exclaimed.

My father slapped me hard across the face causing me to fall onto the linoleum floor. "Shut up!" My father shouted. I watched as he approached Willy, who didn't even seem afraid of him. "So you don't think that brat over there is a lost cause, do you?" My father asked trying his best to sound calm.

Willy shook his head. "No, sir, I think she's very smart and she isn't a lost cause."

My father was silent for a moment and then he did the thing I had been dreading. He slapped Willy across the face. I was horrified and I quickly went over to Willy's side to see if he was all right. "Now maybe he'll learn to keep his mouth shut." My father stated angrily before he stormed off to another part of the house.

"Are you all right?" I asked when my father had left the kitchen.

Willy nodded. "Yea, I'm fine."

"Why did you stand up for me he could have really hurt you?" I asked concerned.

Willy averted his gaze from mine. "I didn't like how he was talking about you. How he kept saying you were a lost cause. I don't think you're a lost cause, you're my best friend." He said quietly.

I smiled at him. "Thanks Willy…"

A few days after the incident between my father and Willy I noticed that Willy had just disappeared. He hadn't been in school for a few days, so I assumed he was just ill. After a week of not hearing from Willy I decided to visit him to see how he was feeling. When I arrived at his house or where his home should have been; I was shocked to find Willy's home gone. I stood there for a moment dumbstruck. How could an entire home just disappear and no one notice it's gone? I stood there feeling lost, why did he leave without telling me? Where did he go? Was it because of my father? I stood there for what seemed like hours hoping the space where his house was would answer the questions I could not. I sighed realizing the empty void held the same answers I did and like me the void couldn't answer my questions. I slowly began my short walk home hoping this was all a dream.

When my father got home my day didn't improve even the slightest bit. My father began to throw insults at me, but I paid little attention to him. My mind was still trying to figure out why Willy had left me alone even after he promised to protect me. Finally when my father began to physically abuse me I came to realize something. No one cared for me. No one cared enough to save me from my eternal torment. I thought Willy cared, but I was so wrong. When it came time to save me he fled and chose to save his own life. The only one that cared is Death. I feel it inch closer to me with every blow my father places upon me. I feel the air around me freeze over. My breathing grows heavier and the world seems to drain itself of all sound. It's getting harder to breath and my vision begins to grow dark. I can feel the beatings on my body cease, but it's too late. In the end no one cared enough to save me.


	3. Chapter 3

"Does she have any other family besides her father?" I could hear a deep, unfamiliar voice ask.

"I believe she has a grandmother, on her mother's side. She lives a ways from here though." This voice belonged to a woman who sounded familiar, but my brain was moving to slow to analyze who this person was.

"Well we have to get her fixed up before she can go anywhere." The male voice replied. _Fixed up? Where am I?_

"Will she make it?"

"I'm not sure. She will need surgery to stop the internal bleeding. After that she may slip into a coma. She has a small case of head trauma, but it shouldn't turn into anything major." The man explained. _Surgery? Coma? Head Trauma? Am I in the hospital?_

I thought I had died on my living room floor with my father's face glaring down upon me; beating me until I felt numb. Apparently someone had walked into the house at the right time and saved me.

"We have to take her to the emergency room as quickly as possible, so we can perform the surgery." I heard the man's voice say.

I heard doors open and felt something being placed around my mouth and nose. I wanted to open my eyes; to struggle against whatever was placed around my mouth and nose, but my body felt like it weighted a thousand pounds. I don't remember what happen after that, I assume I had fallen into a deep sleep.

The next time I awoke my body felt lighter than it had been before I had fallen asleep. I was able to move every part of my body like nothing had happened. I looked around the room and saw that I was in a hospital. I realized that what I had heard before between the mysterious man and woman was not a figment of my imagination. I quickly checked my body for any kinds of bruises or scars that my father may have left behind. I froze when my fingertips grazed over something foreign across my abdomen. I frowned and grazed my fingers across the area once more. The area felt bumpy and rough sort of like a…scar. I lifted my hospital gown up and saw an ugly scar above my belly button.

"Oh good you're finally awake!" I heard a voice say.

I quickly pulled my hospital gown back down and saw Mrs. Beezlbee enter my hospital room. "How are you feeling, dear?" She asked as she approached my bed.

"I'm feeling better Mrs. Beezlbee, but why am I here?" I asked confused.

Mrs. Beezlbee averted her eyes and stared at the nearby wall as she began to speak. "I walked in to your house that one night to bring over some food for you and your father. I happened to cook your dinner earlier than usual that evening and decided to bring it over to you and your father whilst it was still warm. When I entered your house I saw you unconscious on the living room floor while your father was relentlessly beating on you. I was horrified at the scene that was in front of me! When your father saw me standing in the doorway of the house he came after me. He told me to go home and forget what I just witnessed here; that he was only beating you to teach you some discipline."

Mrs. Beezlbee sighed and shook her head. "Well I did go back to my house, but I couldn't leave you to be beaten to death. I called the police and they immediately arrested your father while you were being brought here." She explained quietly.

"Why do I have this scar across my stomach? What did they do to me?" I questioned. I grew fearful as images of doctors taking out different organs that were too badly beaten up by my father to ever be of use to me, flowed into my mind.

"The doctors took numerous tests on you when you first arrived here to make sure you were going to live. Your father had beaten you so severely that the doctors were afraid you weren't going to make it no matter what they did. They found out that you had internal bleeding and some case of head trauma." She explained.

My eyes went wide. "What's head trauma? Did they have to replace my brain?" I questioned fearfully.

Mrs. Beezlbee laughed and shook her head. "No no my dear, head trauma is when you receive damage to your head or brain. Don't fret my dear the doctor said you had a minor case of it and that you shouldn't be concerned about it at all."

I relaxed a little after her explanation, but another question nagged at the back of my mind. "Mrs. Beezlbee, where will I live if my father is taken away?"

Mrs. Beezlbee thought for a moment. "You have a grandmother on your mother's side of the family. The poor woman hasn't seen you since you were born. I recently wrote her a letter explaining what had happen and I asked her if she would take care of you. She has yet to reply back to me."

I lay back against my pillows and sighed. "Mrs. Beezlbee, have you seen Willy anywhere?"

Mrs. Beezlbee looked into my eyes and I saw sadness etched into every part of her facial features. "I'm afraid he has moved away, my dear."

I frowned. "Where did he go?" I asked curiously.

Mrs. Beezlbee averted her gaze from mine. "I'm sorry dear but no one knows where they moved to."

"Oh…" I replied sadly. I couldn't understand why he would leave without telling me? Did I say something that might have upset him?

Mrs. Beezlbee gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry dear, perhaps one day you will find him again." She stated trying to stay hopeful for me. I knew Mrs. Beezlbee was just saying that to make me feel better about Willy leaving. I knew there was a very slim chance I would ever see my best friend again.

I was allowed to leave the hospital a few days later and Mrs. Beezlbee drove me back home to help me pack my things, so she could bring me to my grandmothers. Upon entering the house I froze fearing my father would be lurking in the shadows waiting to try and finish what he had start.

Mrs. Beezlbee urged me forward. "It's alright dear, no one is here; the place is safe."

I slowly entered the house still feeling afraid. I felt like a baby deer in a desolate forest waiting for any sign of the hunter, so I could flee as fast as my little legs could carry me.

"Come on Caroline, let's go pack your things so we can reach your grandmothers by nightfall." Mrs. Beezlbee stated and I obediently followed her to my room where we proceeded to pack up all my things.

When all my things were packed into Mrs. Beezlbee's car we left my house and the town I grew up in for good. I was happy because I knew I would never have to worry about my father trying to kill me again, but I was also a bit nervous. I would be living with a relative I have never met before. What if she turned out to be just like my father or possibly even worse than him? I shuddered at the thought.

The ride to my grandmothers was long and boring and I soon fell asleep in the passenger's seat of the car. The next thing I knew Mrs. Beezlbee was gently shaking me awake, telling me that we were there. I rubbed my eyes and looked out the car window to see where we were. The town was small and gloomy much different from the town I had come from. As Mrs. Beezlbee and I got out of the car and approached the small brick house it began to snow. An elderly woman, who looked a little older than Mrs. Beezlbee, opened the door and smiled kindly at us. The woman had bright, cheerful hazel eyes; they reminded me of my mother's eyes in the picture I had found in my house. Her hair was a pale blond color and pinned up in a bun at the crown of her head.

"Good evening Mrs. Burns…" Mrs. Beezlbee greeted.

"Please Ann call me Sophie, I can't thank you enough for helping my granddaughter." Mrs. Burns stated.

Mrs. Beezlbee gave a gentle smile. "It was no trouble at all. Caroline really is a sweet girl; she deserves a better life than the one she had with her father."

Mrs. Burns face contorted into a look of disgust at the reference of my father. "That man is not the same man my daughter married. I don't know what has happened to him, but he has turned into a horrible person. How he could lash out against a defenseless child, his daughter even, is beyond me."

Mrs. Beezlbee nodded in agreement. "Well, I should be going before it gets too late. All of Caroline's things are here, but if I find that something was not packed I'll send it to you immediately." She stated while motioning to a few bags that were set down next to her, which were packed with my things.

Mrs. Burns nodded. "I can't thank you enough…"

"It really is no trouble." Mrs. Beezlbee stated before turning to face me. "You will be safe now my dear. Your grandmother will take care of you and if you need me I'm only a phone call away." I noticed tears began to form in Mrs. Beezlbee's eyes. I couldn't blame her for being upset; the woman treated me like I was her own child. I suppose subconsciously we both knew that this was the last moment we would have with each other. Once Mrs. Beezlbee got into her car and drove away I would never see her again.

I gave Mrs. Beezlbee a hug and said, "I'm going to miss you…"

She smiled warmly at me. "I will miss you to Caroline." Then she got into her car and drove out of my life forever.

Mrs. Burns, my grandmother, quickly ushered me inside the house while grabbing my things. "I'll put your things in your room for you Caroline. There's a bowl of soup on the table for you if you're hungry." She said as she carried my bags up the stairs and into a room.

I wandered into the living room on my way to the kitchen and was immediately distracted by a picture of my mother, which sat on the mantel piece. It was a different picture from the one I had seen at home. My mother was standing outside this house dressed in winter clothes. Her stomach seemed enlarged and she wore a large, happy smile on her face. This was the first time I had seen any pictures of my mother while she was pregnant with me. I assumed father couldn't stand to look at them because they were a constant reminder that she died because of the child she carried.

"That's a picture of your mother just a few weeks before you were born." My grandmother said as she came and stood next to me.

"Was she happy that she was going to have me?" I asked curiously. After the years of my father telling me I was the cause of my mother's death I began to wonder if she even wanted a child.

"Of course she was. Your mother was ecstatic that she was going to have a child and when she found out that it was a girl, well she started buying you all types of pink baby clothes." My grandmother said with a smile and a small laugh.

"Did she ever get to see me?" I questioned.

My grandmother nodded. "Yes, she even got to hold you but the doctor's could not stop the bleeding and she died."

"Was-was father happy that he had a daughter?" I questioned.

My grandmother placed a hand on top of my head and stroked it gently. "Yes, he was very happy until your mother died. He became very upset then, and he took it out on you. What your father did was wrong Caroline and I want you to know that not everyone is like your father."

I nodded in agreement. "You look so much like your mother." She muttered looking down at me with a large smile.

I looked up at her and returned the smile. I felt at home here and I finally I could ask questions about my mother without getting beaten. "Come now dear; go eat your soup before it gets cold." She stated before ushering me into the kitchen and into a chair where a hot bowl of soup was waiting for me.

"Grandma, was mother anything like me when she was my age?" I asked curiously as I ate my soup.

My grandmother smiled as she sat down across from me. "Well I will admit your father has not let me near you since you were first born, so I'm not quite sure. Your mother was very adventurous and kind hearted. She loved being creative and was constantly drawing things. When you're finished eating I will show you one of your mother's sketchbooks from when she was in school."

I quickly finished my soup eager to see my mother's sketchbook. I sat down on the couch in the living room patiently waiting for my grandmother to retrieve the book. When she finally found it eagerly took it into my hands and began flipping through it. There were drawings of dragons, fairies, and flowers. Towards the end of the book were the more detailed and intricate drawings. The last page of the scrapbook was a picture of another world where the trees were striped; areas on the ground were polka-dotted and the furniture appeared distorted like it wouldn't hold any weight at all.

I held that picture up for my grandmother to see. "I think this one is my favorite."

She smiled down at me. "That drawing was your mother's favorite also."

My grandmother and I lived happily together for ten years without the worry of my father coming and trying to take me away. Actually I hadn't heard any news about my father since that night he tried to kill me. My grandmother told me he was locked away in prison and wouldn't bother me any longer though I still carried the scar on my abdomen as a constant reminder of what happened that night.

I was now twenty-one years old and I looked like a replica of my mother except of course for my eye color. I let my dark brown hair grow out a bit more so it was a little past my shoulders and my body became curvaceous; taking the step from a girl to a woman. I had kept my interest in books and constantly stopped into the bookstore on the other side of town to see if there was anything worth buying. I had gotten a part time job as a secretary for the town's dentist. The job paid well and it gave me something to do until noon. Some of you are probably wondering if I ever saw Willy during those ten years and I am saddened to say that I did not. To be perfectly honest I had completely forgotten about him as I grew older. I know that sounds dreadful, but ten years is a really long time to keep a sliver of hope alive even when you know it's futile.

I had just come down the stairs dressed in a black dress that stopped a bit above the knee, with short sleeves, a square neckline and black pumps. I was prepared to leave for work when my grandmother stopped me. "Caroline, dear, aren't you going to eat breakfast?" She questioned as she caught me heading for the door.

"Grandmother, I'm going to be late." I stated.

"Nonsense, if you don't eat breakfast you'll feel faint!" She exclaimed and ushered me into the kitchen where she already had a plate of eggs waiting for me.

I quickly finished eating and was about to leave the house when my grandmother called me back. "Caroline wait! After work would you be a dear and pick up some candy for me. Its Halloween today and I forgot to get candy for the children. I hear there's a new candy store that just opened last week. I believe it's just down the street here, you could stop there." She stated.

I smiled and said, "Sure, is there anything special you want?"

She shook her head. "Just pick out anything, dear."

I nodded and left the house. I always walked to work, since the town was small everything was in walking distance and grandmother didn't really see any reason to buy a car since neither one of us really went that far. When I reached the dentist's office the dentist was already in and working with his first patient. I quietly sat down at the secretary's desk prepared to answer the phone if it should ring.

Today was one of those boring days at work. I believe the phone rang a total of three times and until my shift ended I watched the people outside walk by. Finally when Stefanie, the girl who takes the shift after me, arrived I left the dentist's office and headed for the new candy store my grandmother was telling me about. When I arrived at the store it was crowded with people stocking up on candy for Halloween. The place was small and it was a bit complicated trying not to run into anyone in there. I can't even count how many times someone ran into me. I grabbed a bag of taffy and a bar of chocolate before waiting in line to pay for my items. As I was waiting to pay I noticed the name on the bar of chocolate seemed familiar. It read Wonka with the W written in an odd script like fashion.

I frowned and thought, _Why does that name seem so familiar to me?_


	4. Chapter 4

When I returned home I found my grandmother sitting in the living room knitting. I placed the candy down on the coffee table in front of her.

"Oh good, I was afraid you might forget to stop at the candy store on the way home." She stated taking the bag of taffy into the kitchen.

I followed her into the kitchen wondering why that name seemed so familiar. "Grandma, who owns the candy store down the street?" I asked curiously sitting down at the kitchen table.

"A young man about your age I believe." She stated as she dumped the taffy into a large bowl, so it would be easier to distribute the candy to the trick-or-treaters.

"Do you know his name?" I questioned.

My grandmother shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't dear, but I have heard that the man is very peculiar. Why do you ask?"

I was about to answer when the doorbell rang. "Oh that must be the trick-or-treaters!" She stated as she rushed to get the door.

I remained in the kitchen lost in my own world. Could Willy own that candy store down the street? Could fate be that kind to me after all these years? I wondered if Willy ever did become a chocolatier. If I saw him again what would I say to him? Would he remember who I am?

I shook my head to rid myself of all the questions I had. I wasn't even positive that the store belonged to Willy and I was already afraid he might not remember me. One thing I was certain of, I was going to find out who owned that candy store down the street.

The next day I once again stopped at the candy stored on my way home from work. The store was not as crowded as it had been yesterday, but there were still a lot of people in it. I slowly began browsing the shelves while listening to the workers and customers talk, hoping to hear about who owned the store.

"Excuse me…" I heard a woman say.

"How can I help you ma'am?" A male voice replied. I took a quick glance to see a short, stout woman at the counter and a tall, lean man wearing a red long sleeve shirt with a red and white apron over it, a black tie and a white and black hat.

"I was wondering if you had anymore chocolate birds in stock since there aren't any on the shelves." The woman replied.

"Let me check ma'am." The man replied and went into a back room. "Mr. Wonka…." Was all I was able to hear before a young boy began throwing a tantrum over a bar of chocolate.

I sighed in frustration. It figures that the child would throw a tantrum at the precise moment I was going to find out if Willy was here. The man said Mr. Wonka though, so doesn't that mean Willy is here somewhere? The only other Mr. Wonka I knew was Willy's father and he seemed like the last person who would ever own a candy store. I sighed again in defeat and decided to return home. Perhaps tomorrow my luck would improve.

As fate would have it my luck did not improve the next day. To be more exact my luck did not improve for quite a few days. I would stop into the store almost every day after work sometimes buying chocolate other times just browsing hoping to catch a glimpse of Willy. I began to feel like some type of stalker as I once again entered the store. I swore to myself that if I did not catch a glimpse of Willy today than I will no longer come into this store. I wouldn't want the employees to see me as some kind of odd creep; no doubt they already thought this though.

"Is there something I can help you with, Miss?" An elderly man at the counter asked. He was wearing the stores uniform and smiled politely at me.

I figured this was the only chance I was possibly going to get to meet Willy so I asked, "Is Mr. Wonka around by any chance?"

The man looked at me oddly and said, "Yes he is…"

"Would it be too much to ask if I can have a word with him?" I asked quietly.

The man gave me a gentle smile. "I'll see what I can do Miss."

"Thank you so much!" I said happily and watched as the man went into the back room. Finally after ten years I was going to see him again! Would he remember me? What could I possibly say to him? What if he doesn't remember me and I make a fool out of myself?

I nervously bit my lower lip. I noticed my hands began to slightly tremble and I tried to make them stop, but nothing I did could stop them from trembling. Then a man wearing a purple jacket with a red vest under it, a red and black top hat and red latex gloves came out of the back room. I could tell it was Willy even after ten years I have never met another person with striking violet eyes. I immediately felt my heart jump up into my throat and my brain stopped functioning correctly.

"Are you the one that wanted to see me?" He asked curiously with a large grin on his face.

I nodded. "You're Willy Wonka." I said quietly.

Willy nodded. "Yes and who might you be?"

"Caroline Heartford…" I replied and Willy gave me an odd look.

Then I realized something. He didn't remember me; he had forgotten all about me. I felt my heart sink as I asked, "You don't recognize me, do you?"

Willy gave me a quizzical look. "No, should I?"

I bit down on my lip to keep the tears from forming in my eyes. After what we had been through together he just forgot about me. I should have known better than to ever have gotten close to him. I averted my gaze from him as I spoke. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. It's getting late I think I…I think I should go." I replied softly and swiftly made my way out of the store.

I made my way back home slowly letting the tears gradually slide down my face. What was I expecting after ten years? For him to see me standing in his store and start up a conversation like a decade had never passed between us? Yes. I ran my fingers threw my hair and sighed wiping away the tears. _I'm being foolish; I mean did I remember him after ten years? I admit I hadn't thought about him during those ten years_,_ but when I saw his name it did seem familiar._

When I reached my house I immediately froze; the front door was wide open. I cautiously entered the house to see it had been ransacked and my grandmother was nowhere in sight. I began to panic and quickly entered the living room, which is where my grandmother usually would wait for me to come home, but she wasn't there.

"Grandma!" I called listening intently for her voice, but the only thing I heard was silence.

I heard something move behind me and I quickly turned around and saw him. The very man that had haunted me for eleven years; the man I had thought was out of my life for good. My father. He stood in the corner of the room looking disheveled and glaring daggers at me.

"So this is where you ended up, huh? You turned into a whore while I was gone." He stated his voice was raspy, like it hadn't been used in the ten years he was locked away.

I couldn't say anything; I was too afraid to say anything. I was hoping this was just some horrible nightmare and I would wake up from it at any moment, but as he approached me I realized this wasn't a nightmare; this was my reality. I tried to back away from my father without tripping over the furniture that had been tossed around the room.

My father grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged on it violently bringing my face closer to his own. I felt tears begin to form in my eyes from the pain. "You would think by now you would have gotten this into your head. You can't escape me! I will always find you!" My father stated viciously. I smelt the alcohol on his breath as he spoke to me. He was back into his old habits of drinking and abusing me.

I felt a spark of courage ignite itself somewhere inside me. "What happens when death and old age catch up to you? I'll be free of your punishment than and I'm counting down the days until that happens." I stated with a hint of malice in my voice.

I saw the rage in my father's eyes as he released his grip on my hair and slapped me hard across the face. I fell onto the floor and memories of the night my father almost killed me flashed through my head. This time, I realized there was no one here to save me. Mrs. Beezlbee stumbled upon my father's act of violence by accident ten years ago. No one was going to stumble upon us now and I would be found dead by the police a day or so later.

I felt the tears slowly cascade down my face as my father knelt down to my level. "I see you still need a lesson in obedience." He stated quietly as he wrapped his hands around my throat.

My father was about to choke off my air supply when someone cleared their throat. My father's attention turned to whoever was standing in the doorway of the living room. He quickly removed his hands from my throat and I saw Willy standing in the doorway with a look of pure hatred etched on his face.

"You know that's not very nice." Willy stated calmly, but there was a hint of anger within his voice.

My father glared at him. "So what? She's my daughter and I can do whatever I please with her! She deserves whatever she gets!" He stated angrily.

"She doesn't deserve to have a father like you. Now I saw one of the neighbors call the police so…" Willy trailed off letting my father piece together the rest of the sentence.

My father's eyes widened in horror as he quickly made his way to the nearest exit. When my father left Willy swiftly made his way over to me and knelt down to my level. "Caroline, are you alright?" He asked quietly.

I frowned. "You remember now?" I asked breathless from the encounter with my father.

He smiled shyly. "Yea, I followed you here because I thought you seemed familiar. When I saw your father hit you like that it all came back to me." He explained offering me his hand to help me up.

I gratefully took it and he helped me to my feet. "I'm glad you remembered…" I said softly as I embraced him. I noticed he seemed to go rigid when I embraced him, but I thought nothing of it because another more important thought hit me.

"My grandmother! She was supposed to be here when I got home from work!" I exclaimed my voice full of fright. I immediately began searching the house for her and found her lying on the floor in her bedroom.

I dropped down onto my knees next to her unconscious body feeling the tears begin to blur my vision. Her frail body seemed badly beaten. I could only imagine what my father had done to her. My father probably tried to get my grandmother to tell him where I was and when she refused, as I could only imagine she would, he beat her senseless. I heard police sirens wailing and the next few moments went by in a blur. I remember the paramedics entering the room and placing my grandmother on a stretcher, a policeman asked my name and relation to my grandmother and I emotionlessly answered all his questions. Then I was being helped into the back of an ambulance with Willy by my side the entire time and finally I remember sitting in a waiting room inside a hospital while my grandmother was being operated on just like I had been operated on ten years ago.

I hadn't spoken a word to anyone since the policeman had asked me questions. I was in a daze; I was in my own world where none of this was actually happening. I noticed Willy gave me worried glances every once in a while. I don't blame him; he has never seen me this upset before.

"Caroline…" He said quietly. I turned to face him and raised my eyebrows at him; gesturing him to continue with what he was going to say.

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled quickly.

I frowned. "Why are you sorry?" I asked.

Willy clenched his fists nervously making his latex gloves squeak. "I promised to protect you and I didn't do that. I let your father hurt you."

I felt a sudden wave of anger wash over me. "If you want be technical you broke your promise ten years ago." I saw a look of confusion flash across Willy's face. I averted my gaze from him and glared at a tile on the hospital floor. "When you mysteriously disappeared ten years ago my father beat me until I was an inch away from death. If Mrs. Beezlbee hadn't walked into the house that day I wouldn't be sitting here next to you. They arrested my father that night and brought me to the hospital where they performed surgery on me, so they could save my life. Thanks to my father I now carry a scar that reminds me of what he did every time I look at it." I explained bitterly as I subconsciously placed a hand to where my scar was.

"Caroline…" He began, but I interrupted him.

"You left me without so much as even a good-bye. Did it ever occur to you that I would miss you if you left?" I questioned turning my gaze back onto him.

Willy's face showed the misery he must have been feeling. "Obviously you didn't care much about me." I mumbled looking away from him to watch an elderly couple. The wife had her arm linked with her husband's helping him reach the doors of the hospital. I sighed as I watched them. They seemed to be in their own world oblivious to what was going on around them. Why couldn't my life be as happy as that?

Willy and I sat in silence for hours waiting for the doctor to come out of the operating room to give me news on my grandmother. I watched people come into the hospital and leave the hospital. One woman came into the hospital pregnant with her husband looking frantic. A nurse quickly got her a wheelchair and brought her to a room with her husband following close behind. I wondered if that was how my parents looked the day I was born.

My thoughts were interrupted by a solemn voice. "Miss Heartford…" I looked up and saw the doctor dressed in scrubs looking sorrowfully down at me.

"Yes…" I replied I felt my throat begin to tighten. I knew what he was going to say, but I didn't want the words to leave his mouth.

"I'm sorry but we did everything we could to save her. Your grandmother didn't make it." The doctor stated miserably.

I nodded trying to keep my composure. "Thank you…" The doctor nodded and went back down the hallway.

I felt the tears sting my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't cry; I had done enough crying today. I tried to focus my attention on something else; anything else to keep myself from crying. I felt a hand gently hold my own. I looked to see a red gloved hand holding my pale one.

"I'm sorry Caroline…" Willy stated softly. I gave him a small smile before placing my head on his shoulder and silently crying.


End file.
